


Curious

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6529600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gimli tries to say sorry, but elves are weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TAFKAB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for gimleafanatic’s “Gimli/Haldir” prompt on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/). This references the extended scene in The Fellowship of the Ring movie where Gimli barks something rude at Haldir.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s wandering the fair forest with Legolas, as he so often is these days, when he spots Haldir again—the elf who first met them. The memory of the mysterious walk at arrow point into the woods still chafes at Gimli, though he begrudges the elves less for having met the Lady Galadriel, and now he understands why their realm must be protected. Beside him, Legolas slows to a stop, looking across the way and noting, “He is off duty, I think—perhaps now is a good time for you to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Gimli repeats, looking sharply sideways and up: Legolas meets him with a too-wide grin the way only a woodland elf could.

“You were quite rude to him that night in the trees, or did you forget your words?”

Gimli grunts noncommittally, though of course he remembers—Haldir had spoken then to Aragorn and Legolas as though none of the others were even there, and when Gimli growled for Haldir to use the common tongue so they could all understand, Haldir’s reply was thoroughly snide. Aragorn wasn’t pleased with the Elvish words Gimli snapped back, but he doesn’t regret them.

He does, perhaps, regret approaching the Lady Galadriel’s world as an enemy, and thinking of her more than anything is what makes him mutter, “Alright.” Legolas looks pleased, and Gimli scowls like it’s a hardship. The more time he spends with elves, the less he minds their serenely smug expressions, their tall, sinewy bodies and their too form-fitted attire. Haldir has the same fair hair as Legolas, and when he turns to spot them across the forest floor, the light washes golden over his face. He looks, whether or not Gimli likes to admit it, unsettlingly beautiful.

That might be part of the reason that Gimli begrudgingly starts forward. Legolas remains politely behind, a few paces back, giving Gimli space from the shame of his apology. Haldir stands by a small knot of trees, chatting with two elves who quiet at Gimli’s approach. They glance down at him, and he returns nods of acknowledgement. Then Haldir inclines his head the other way in a silent signal, and the two elves wander off back towards Legolas. 

Gimli waits until they’re out of earshot—which is only guesswork where Elven ears are concerned—then mutters without completely meeting Haldir’s eye, “About what I said to you, back in the trees...” He finds himself pausing on instinct but forces out, “Sorry about that.”

Both of Haldir’s eyebrows lift. His mouth is in a straight line, face otherwise impassive, but shock flickers across his eyes at the confession. It’s unlikely he’s ever had an apology from a dwarf before. For all Gimli knows, he’s never _met_ a dwarf before.

He doesn’t give an answer, instead glancing back to where Legolas stands several kilometers away, and muses, “I admit the greater surprise is that an Elven prince chooses to be seen so often with such a companion.”

It sounds like an insult, but Gimli holds himself back from a fight and just grunts, “Jealous, are you?” Haldir looks back at him with obvious challenge, pushing Gimli to enlighten this gorgeous but naïve creature on what exactly this companion contributes. “He might be a prince, aye, and good with that bow, but an equally fierce warrior stands before you. I offer strength, skill, and stamina. This party would’ve already been lost without me!”

Haldir stares at him for a moment as though digesting the boast, then says more bluntly than Gimli’s ever heard from any elf, “You are still hairy and rude.”

“I came here to apologize,” Gimli scoffs, before snorting, “And clearly, you’ve never run your fingers through a fine dwarf beard!”

“I have not.”

Gimli thought so.

Haldir leans forward suddenly, and for that split second, Gimli thinks they’re going to have a real fight, and he’s almost _excited_ for it—Aragorn won’t appreciate beating their hosts, but Gimli hasn’t had a good one-on-one brawl since he left home, and of course he’s thought about lunging at Legolas’ trim form and tossing him down, rolling around with him in the dirt, grinding his pretty body into the earth, and Haldir isn’t Legolas but is close enough, handsome enough—

Then Haldir’s lips are brushing over Gimli’s, and Gimli’s eyes fly wide open.

It’s the most undignified kiss he’s ever had, and it’s entirely his fault. He stands frozen still in shock while Haldir gently tilts against him, slim fingers drifting gracefully into the scruff of his beard, where they twine into a sensual dance, stroking through the coarse curls and giving a stinging tug to his chin—an erotic move for a dwarf. Haldir’s long hair is silk-soft against Gimli’s cheeks, Haldir’s lips impossibly smooth, a little wet, and _warm_. Haldir smells of fresh earth and foreign flowers, exotic and faintly intoxicating. Haldir’s hand weaves down past the thick braids of Gimli’s beard to finally pull free, and that’s when Haldir pulls back again.

He straightens up, runs a pink tongue across his pale lips, and practically snorts, “Skill and stamina indeed. I will admit the beard is not as unpleasant as I thought, though.” Gimli can feels his cheeks setting fire and isn’t sure if it’s in embarrassment or fury—it sounds very much like Haldir just called him a bad kisser, and if Gimli had had a little heads up before it started, he knows he could’ve kissed circles around some frail forest elf. 

But now he’s too busy spluttering in confusion and insult to say it, and Haldir’s already walking off. Apparently, he’s gotten whatever answers he wanted, although if a dwarf had kissed another like that, it would’ve lead to much more.

Haldir is long gone by the time Legolas is back at his side, and Gimli hopes against all odds that Legolas didn’t see that. But of course, Legolas asks, grinning in clear amusement, “I think you may have misphrased your apology, my friend. Shall I wait while you go after him?”

Gimli gives Legolas a glare and searches for a way to explain that he didn’t prompt that at all—it’s hardly his fault if attractive elves can’t keep away from him—but finally he just grumbles, “Elves!” He doesn’t admit how much he’s thinking about it, and he purposely walks in the opposite direction.


End file.
